What We Could Become
by TheArabFanBoy
Summary: What happens when all you have is thoughts of what could potentially could have been?


**Author:** Abdullah Al-Ghamdi  
**Title:** What We Could Become  
**Fandom:** Wrestling (WWE)  
**Characters:** Carlito, Stacy Keibler  
**Pairings:** Carlito/Stacy, mentions of Randy/Stacy  
**Summary:** What happens when all you have is thoughts of what could potentially could have been?  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Disclaimer:** I own a brain; I use it to write stories like this. I do not own the characters, brands, or people mentioned in this story. The only thing I own is the idea for this story.  
**Feedback:** Yes, please. I live on it.  
**Author's Notes:** The song used in this story is by Evan and Jaron. The title for the song is "Crazy For The Girl".  
**Author's Notes #2: **Things highlighted in_ italic _indicate a private thought.

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Carlos Colón, Jr. enjoyed being a wrestler. For all of its troubles, the job at least assured him a not so small amount of privacy. The type of privacy that allowed him to walk down the street without being mobbed by fans and paparazzi. The type of privacy that allowed him to go to a public restroom without being asked to sign something. Most importantly, the type of privacy that allowed him to go into a bar and drink without anybody asking if there was something wrong. Yes, that matter a lot to the young superstar; Carlos liked to think he treated his fans well, but on a night like this? He doubted he would be much help to them. On a night like this, he just wanted to be alone with his drink of choice. Little did he know that he wouldn't be lucky enough to get his wish.

**Charlie's** was a relatively quiet bar located in Louisville, Kentucky. Nothing about the place stood out, and as Carlos walked inside, he realized that it looked almost identical to every other bar he had been in any city. Waitresses in knee-length skirts, bad music, and drunk men looking for a quickie. Carlos wasn't sure about the quickie part, but he was sure about getting drunk. Drunk to the point where he would no longer remember his troubles, if only for a short time. The only problem with that was that he had a houseshow the next morning, and wrestling hung-over was probably not a very smart idea. _A few drinks will have to do the trick_, Carlos said to himself walking over to the bar.

As he passed through a younger group of people, he could hear a male voice sneer, "Hey, nice shirt!" He glanced down at his attire with a smirk on his face: he wore a tropical shirt, and white pants with matching white shoes. He wasn't like Carlito in many ways, but he could agree that his fashion sense (or lack thereof) resembled his television character in a lot of ways.

Carlos sighed as he took a seat directly facing the bartender. He was about to order his drink when a female voice interrupted him, "Another one, please."

'You're having a bad night, too?" The wrestler grinned, without looking at the woman.

"You could say that." She replied with a bitter laugh. Turning her head to face him, she smiled slightly, "Carlos!"

_Huh?_ He said surprised at the fact that he had been noticed. He looked over to his left, and was taken aback from the smiling face staring at him. "Stacy?" He said in the tone of a question. It was safe to say that the wrestler had expected to see Elvis Presley sitting beside him, more than he expected to see the former Diva. He had seen her only in magazines and publications over the past few months. Her popularity had grown remarkably since her **Dancing With The Stars **stint; it was understandable that the Puerto Rican would be staggered at seeing her in a tavern in a random city.

The blonde grinned at him, "Okay, I know my makeup's running and all, but I don't look that bad - you look like you've seen a ghost."

Carlos put on a soft smile, apologizing. "No, no. You look fine, and you're makeup is not running." He explained, "I'm just surprised to see you sitting in a bar in the middle of the night. My guess would have been that you're on some fancy Hollywood set - making out with Leo or Brad Pitt."

The bartender smiled as he handed Stacy her second shot of Vodka. "Here you go," he glanced at the tanned wrestler. "How about you, sir? Can I get you anything?" Carlos politely shook his head. "Well, if you need anything, just ask." The bartender motioned as he walked off to serve other customers.

Stacy couldn't help but roll her eyes as she saw him not order a drink, "Oh, please, don't let my presence stop you from getting hammered." She teased jokingly.

Carlos let out a gentle sigh. "I wasn't really playing on doing anything heavy tonight, anyway. We have a show tomorrow." He added in a goofy tone, "Though, you calling me 'Carlos' would give me enough of a reason to get wasted."

Stacy chuckled for the first time that night, "Right, Right. I forgot. I'm sorry, Carly." She said using the nickname he preferred.

"Thank you." He said laughing with her, "Carlos just sounds so serious, like I'm the bad guy in some crappy Spanish soap opera."

Stacy felt herself calm as they began laughing. It wasn't the first time he managed to put a smile on her face when she was upset. He had the odd talent of lifting her spirits up when she was feeling down. Then again, that was the person he was. And she was glad he hadn't changed since the last time they talked.

A few moments passed in silence, when Carly finally asked, "Not that I mind, but what are you doing here?"

"As opposed to being on some fancy Hollywood set - making out with some hot guy?" She quipped at him, taking a sip of her heavy-drink before responding. "I have a date with Randy." She explained. "Well, I had one anyway." She finished a little sadly.

Carly nodded as he took it all in. It wasn't a surprise, really. He heard from a few people backstage that the two were an item, but that was over a year ago. Randy Orton was a private person, so it didn't come as a shock that he heard nothing about the subject from him. Carly wasn't from the same school of thought as Randy, though; if he had a girl like Stacy with him, he was pretty sure he wouldn't shut up about it.

"Ugh," Stacy grunted with a disgusted look on her face, "I can't finish this." She said indicating the drink in front of her. Carly gave her a look, to which she simply shrugged. "It seemed like a good idea at first."

The wrestler faked an irritated sigh as he said, "Fine, I'll take it." He took the glass from her. "Amateur." He added in an attempt to tease her.

The leggy blonde merely leaned back into her chair. "You're probably right." She said in a gloomy tone. Carly studied her for a moment; it was clear she wasn't feeling her best. Despite the occasional smile or grin, she put on since he walked in, he could tell the fight with her boyfriend wasn't a shallow one as she let on. "You wanna talk about it?" He offered.

Normally, Stacy wouldn't. Not unlike Randy, she believed in keeping matters of the heart to herself. It was different with Carly, because she could trust him. She had known him since he first came to the WWE. Whenever she talked to him, she felt that he was listening to her. She could trust him not to tell anyone else what they discussed. Carly had quite a mouth, but he kept quiet where it mattered. "We were supposed to go-out tonight, after the show. He cancelled, said he was too tired, or something."

Carly raised a brow; he didn't really understand what she was mad about. "So, you're mad at him for being too tired to go-out with you… after a wrestling show?"

Stacy went on the defensive, "It's not like that. We have been talking about this for months; I just don't appreciate him pulling something like this in the last minute. She went on, "We haven't seen each other in almost a month, you'd think he would be excited to see me."

"He wasn't excited to see you?" Carly asked casually.

"No, I think he was." Stacy admitted. "It was more the getting out, he wasn't excited about." She made a realization, "Okay, so maybe I'm being irrational. I'm entitled to that."

Carly nodded, a bit fixated on his own thoughts. Stacy smiled at him, a little embarrassed. "I'm sorry, you probably don't wanna hear about my man problems. I think I'm boring you."

"If I didn't want to, I wouldn't have asked." He told her. "Besides, when your roommate is a white rapper who wakes you up at two in morning to hear a new song he came up with, man problems aren't so bad." He grinned at her.

Stacy grinned back, "So, how is it living with John?"

"Well, if you like dirty underwear and socks lying around all over the place, then it's quite the party." He said a little frustrated.

Stacy laughed, teasing him. "He sure is pretty, though."

Carly smiled, nodding. "Yeah, but that only goes so far."

Stacy took a moment before she replied. She thought about what was really making her mad. She knew the way she told her story made everything seem understated. Perhaps she did that purposely, to make it seem like things weren't as serious as she knew they were. She began by saying, "I just feel like sometimes, I'm the only one whose trying to make this relationship work. I thought that if we went out tonight, that it would bring the spark back. Instead, I'm sitting in a bar, and he's in some hotel doing God knows what." As she said those words, she could feel the anger rushing back to her. _Maybe this talk is having some reverse affect_. She thought to herself.

Carly listened intently beginning to understand why she was so angry. What he couldn't understand was the growing voice in his head that told him to 'take the chance'. To tell her how he felt. He quieted that voice down. Each time he did, the voice grew stronger. "Maybe he doesn't see anything that needs to be worked on." Carly pointed out.

Stacy scoffed, "He would have to be pretty blind not to see that. We've been fighting for a while now, and I--" She went on, only to be cut-off by Carly.

"That's not how I meant it. Men are kind of stupid; we'd have to be struck by lighting thirty times to finally realize we should say how we really feel." Carly said, not recognizing how close that hit home.

Stacy gave him a quizzical look. "Speaking from experience?" She asked.

The wrestler sighed, "Yeah, but we're not talking about me."

Stacy grinned at him, "We could be."

Carly smiled a little uncomfortable. "Yeah, I don't know how that would work; I'm single."

"So?" Stacy beamed. "Don't you picture yourself with anybody?"

Carly smirked a little. _Well, she asked_. He thought. Maybe this would be the chance to tell her that he pictured himself with her. That he had thought about being with her for quite some time now. He knew it would be awkward because of her fight with Randy, but at least now, he could say it without feeling a mountain of pressure on him since it came in the form of the joke. Before he could even open his mouth, Stacy interrupted him with a silly smile on her face. "I think you and John would make a nice couple." She said.

Carly's face fell for a moment, but he quickly managed to set it aside. "I walked right into that joke, didn't I?" He said forcing a grin.

"Pretty much," Stacy laughed. "For the record, though. I think you would be the wife." She said enjoying ribbing him a little too much.

"Ack," Carly grimaced. "That's just the Vodka talking."

Stacy simply laughed, it was funny to see him get all worked up. It brought out a little accent in his words. "Speaking of drinks, you've barely touched yours." She said signifying the drink he took from her earlier.

"I don't think I would be much of a good listener, if I was half-drunk." Carly stated.

Stacy shook her head, "Are we still doing that? Talking about me and Randy?"

Carly looked at her, and spoke with concern, "If you want to." It didn't bother him to listen about them. He envied Randy, sure. _Who wouldn't? _He thought. He didn't feel any jealously, though. He was happy for them. He wanted to see Stacy happy, and he knew Randy made her happy. Maybe more than he ever could. It was starting to sink in. After two years of pining for Stacy, he started to comprehend that it might not ever happen for them. He wasn't sure how to react to that. "How did it start with you two?" He asked.

Stacy smiled, as she began. "I don't know how." She laughed, explaining, "It was probably the storyline we had together, having to spend all that time rehearsing our promos and stuff. After a while, it rubbed off."

Carly put on a smile, "I figured that much." Pausing, he added, "You smile when you talk about him."

Stacy laughed sadly, choking up a little, "I still do." She began to grasp the idea of what made her upset. "He still makes me smile. He knows what to say to me when I'm down. We laugh together. He was with me when I lost on **Dancing**. He comforted me. Hell, he even reads out scripts I get, no matter how lame they are. I just don't know where it went wrong." She finished sadly, a tear falling on her cheek. "I don't know where the spark went."

Carly was more than willing to eat his words. It did bother him to hear her talk about Randy that way, not for any obvious reasons. It bothered him because everything Stacy mentioned he was willing to do. He could do everything Stacy mentioned better than Randy ever could. He understood now why he would never be with Stacy, she didn't love him. She loved Randy Orton. Telling her how he felt wouldn't change that. It would make things worse. _At least this way I can be the shoulder she cries on,_ He thought to himself sadly.

He turned over, wiping her tear away with one gentle touch. Looking into her eyes, he made a decision. "You should be with him." He said, the words breaking his heart.

Stacy laughed sorrowfully, "Okay, excluding the last part, did you hear anything I've said during this conversation?"

Carly smiled softly, "Exactly. You wouldn't be talking to some ex-coworker about how much he pisses you off if you didn't love him."

Stacy smiled brightly, pulling him into a hug. "You are not some ex-coworker, Carly. You're a great friend, and you have the patience of a saint for having to listen to me bitch for this entire time."

Carly acted nonchalant as he hugged her back, "It was my pleasure." He said in an almost somber tone, knowing this was the closest he would ever be with her.

Stacy jokingly rolled her eyes, "Yeah, right." She said. "Thanks," she said putting fifty dollars on the table for the cost of the drinks as she pulled away from the hug. She gave Carly one last smile before she stood up to leave.

"Randy better know how lucky he is." He said to himself as she watched her leave the club, deciding to do the same. _Wrestling with a hangover still isn't a smart idea_. He smirked to himself. Because he knew it would take more then a few drinks to make him forget what he just gave up.  
_  
Would you look at her  
__She looks at me  
__She's got me thinking about her constantly  
__But she don't know how I feel  
__And as she carries on without a doubt  
__I wonder if she's figured out  
__I'm crazy for this girl_

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Author's Notes: How was that? Super gross? I really tried the best I could with it. Stacy/Carly is one of my favorite pairings, so I will be writing about them a lot. (Usually in the same, non-kayfabe form). Please review the story, and don't be afraid to send in constructive criticism; how else will I improve as a writer? Props to my man, Sal for the beta. I'm you're bitch.


End file.
